


The Eyes Have It

by Thea_K



Category: ONE OK ROCK
Genre: Getting Together, Inspired by Real Events, Light Angst, M/M, Possibly Unrequited Love, RPF, Soundproof studios are convenient, Yaoi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-12
Updated: 2020-04-12
Packaged: 2021-03-01 18:07:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,891
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23611282
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thea_K/pseuds/Thea_K
Summary: Toru inherits the Yamashita slowness on the uptake, devotion and his father’s intensity of gaze, for better or worse. One day his eyes land on an unassuming boy of short stature and downcast posture.A short re-imagining of One Ok Rock’s history until now, told in vignettes. (Featuring fanservice and the IG live from 5 Apr 2020!)
Relationships: Morita Takahiro/Yamashita Toru, Moriuchi Takahiro/Yamashita Toru
Comments: 7
Kudos: 43





	The Eyes Have It

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first ever completed fanfic! Inspiration taken from watching OOR live and being pleasantly surprised at the fanservice I witnessed. I had to hide my smile from my male friends when I saw Taka approach Toru and sing with their heads so close together. After devouring YT interviews, performances and of course that recent IG live, this fic was born. Unbeta-ed. More notes at the end.
> 
> Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction and no offense is meant.

**I.**

The Yamashita clan of Osaka did not have anything much to distinguish itself. But one thing could be said that was typical of its members: they were profoundly devoted. Sometimes a little slow on the uptake, but nevertheless devoted.

Toru grows up with the story of his father locking eyes with his mother in kindergarten and deciding then and there he would marry her. His 18 year-old father watched his mother for years, but he is surprised when his mother runs out of patience and demands to know why he hasn’t confessed yet. Stunned, he asks her how she had guessed at his feelings. _Baka_ , she apparently answered, _your eyes give you away_.

**II.**

It is those eyes that Toru inherits, for better or worse.

For worse, when he’s in school and it’s obvious his attention has wandered off on unproductive tangents. For worse, when he can’t hold back the tears when he hears his hip-hop group will be disbanding. For worse, when he gets approached by girls who proffer chocolates on Valentine’s Day, his less than enthusiastic glazed look revealing his response before he can open his mouth.

No, Toru doesn’t discover any upsides to his ocular genetics until one day when they land on an unassuming boy of short stature and downcast posture.

His friend hadn’t needed much to convince him to ditch doing his trigonometry homework to attend a random live. Toru is in the middle of getting his own band together so he thinks of his attendance as research.

It’s 9.35pm when the band finally starts.

At first he is intrigued by the boy on stage’s refusal to lift his gaze and acknowledge the audience. The boy’s eyes dart only briefly upward as he introduces himself but otherwise stay trained on the ground. Toru is puzzled at the rudeness.

But then the boy opens his mouth to sing and Toru’s stomach falls away. It’s a bit on the high side and the Johnny’s Jrs influence is apparent, but goosebumps erupt on his arms nonetheless. He can’t remember much else besides the guitarist fumbling his chords once in a while and the flush that blooms on the boy’s cheeks when it happens.

After, when his friend approaches the stage to introduce themselves, he doesn’t realise how he is staring too hard to be considered polite until the boy’s eyes catches his and their expression turns immediately defensive.

_Please join my band_ , he blurts out unthinkingly. Brown-black irises fringed with long lashes are lost to a blink before he hears a firm no. _I’m already part of my own band_ , the boy argues.

**III.**

It’s another 35 days before he wheedles the boy into fronting up to his yet unnamed band’s practice. 35 days filled with finding out the boy’s name, where his _baito_ is and hours of pleading with his eyes as Taka serves food to other customers and him, his umpteenth complimentary glass of water.

His bandmates quickly get over the shock of Taka’s sudden addition (and weirdly shiny clothing) and take to the newly-christened Mori-chan like a duck to water. The shy boy in turn dives wholeheartedly into rock music. Toru watches as practice by practice, live by live, the slump in Mori-chan’s shoulders slowly straightens and his eyes leave the floor.

It’s another late-night practice when they are discussing what to finally call their band. Toru, however, is distracted by the tiny beauty marks on Mori-chan’s face. He catches Alex looking at him expectantly but he can’t recall for the life of him what was said. An errant memory surfaces of his father saying that, before _ketais_ were popular, most strangers that approach you ask for the time.

Toru glances at the clock behind Mori-chan’s head and answers, _one o'clock?_

**IV.**

Years pass and through hard work, and what Toru thinks is in large part because of Mori-chan’s heartfelt lyrics and mesmerising voice, One Ok Rock is lifted out of obscurity and thrust upon the _Budokan_ stage.

It’s T-35 min and counting to the start of their biggest gig yet and he feels like he’s coming out of his skin. He paces the short length of their dressing room as he thinks that surely doing a live naked can’t be worse than this feeling.

He is making himself nauseated when he feels a hand tugging on his wrist. He turns and finds Mori-chan not quite face-to-face; more like face-to-neck. _Ne_ , the smaller of the two breathes, _you’ll be great leader-san, don’t worry so much_.

Later on the stage, he is still a bit nervous but his stomach has calmed somewhat. It’s during a difficult song that Toru has a moment of rising panic that he knows he broadcasts with his deer-in-headlights expression. He strums frantically, living chord-to-chord. He catches Mori-chan’s concerned look before the latter approaches him. Again his space is invaded. This time the lash-veiled brown-black eyes coupled with the heat of that powerful voice is almost too much. A hand on his shoulder brings him closer and just like that, a wave crashes over his being. As the wave recedes, his stomach is in knots again but he strangely doesn’t mind. 

It becomes a ritual of sorts that Toru secretly looks forward to every performance.

**V.**

The thing is, Toru has always liked girls. He likes how they look and feel soft and smooth to the touch.

When Mori-chan appears in the studio one day, his wavy long hair and the accompanying goatee shorn off, Toru is reminded of the almost effeminate boy he once met that fateful live. Without the goatee, his lips seem even fuller to complement his doe eyes.

Over the next few albums, the smaller male’s confidence really takes off, if the revealing sleeveless tops and ripped jeans he now wears are any indication. Toru’s eyes furtively appraise the petite sinew of Taka’s arms and torso, the slenderness of his legs. (He is Taka once again since the vocalist expressed his wish to be thought of and addressed as a grown man.)

Taka is a man alright, but Toru can’t help but wonder how the combination of fit muscle and almost hairless skin would feel beneath his fingertips. He keeps eyes focused on his guitar during gigs lest they betray him.

**VI.**

They play lives in country after country. It’s exhausting mentally and physically but they are living the dream. Besides, Toru is grateful that the busy schedule barely affords him an iota of time to reflect on the tightening in his chest he feels whenever Taka is near, on-stage and off.

One day Taka hands him the lyrics to _Heartache,_ doe eyes boring into his for his response _._ Toru entertains the idea that the vocalist must be pining after someone. He thinks it might be Rola, given the amount of time he spends with her recently. But the guitarist is in no position to question the smaller man on matters he might not care for getting the answers to.

Toru feels like he’s fallen down a metaphorical hole, which he can attest is not as easy to recover from compared to falling down a literal one. He is so adrift in his own wallowing that he misses the pained look in the vocalist’s eyes whenever they perform the song acoustically, together.

**VII.**

The vocalist’s hair almost goes through the full rainbow of colours before it settles on blonde again. Toru’s hair is similar in colour and now brushes his shoulders. It tickles his neck as he turns to watch Taka excuse himself to the bathroom before the gig.

When Toru turns his head back, he catches Ryota and Tomoya exchanging knowing glances. _Ano_ , the bassist says scratching his cheek, _strike while the fire’s hot_. _And it’s been burning for some time now_ , Tomoya adds, punctuating the strange statement with a cheeky thumbs up. It makes as much sense as a bear shitting in the woods.

Toru’s mind is still grappling with that exchange when an arm wraps around his neck mid- _Push_ _Back_. He is brought cheek-to-cheek with Taka, who is so close that Toru can feel the vibrating notes he sings through his skin. He thinks that the vocalist regrets the decision to venture close to the sweaty guitarist when he feels a quick peck to his cheek. The soft press of that characteristic pout is unmistakable. Toru’s eyes widen and the universe aligns itself. 

**VIII.**

They return to the mansion **#** they share later that night in near silence. The high they always feel during lives descends and mutes into a different energy altogether. The undercurrent is palpable when they enter the elevator, bare shoulders brushing.

Wordlessly, Toru’s long finger pushes the button to his floor. When he looks straight ahead at the reflective interior, he sees the heavy-lidded expression on the face next to him. Taka’s eyes never leave him. The taller’s mouth dries as he belatedly realises that the other hasn’t pressed the button for his own floor. He knows it’s deliberate from the way the smaller man’s lips part slowly, invitingly.

The walk from the elevator to his front door is thankfully short.

Because as soon as they’re inside, Toru turns around and it’s a wild clash of lips, teeth and tongue, with hands on jaws, then in hair, then down bodies, and then back again. They can’t get close enough. The urgency is like warfare as layers are shucked blindly.

The hum in Taka’s kisses grow in volume to become desperate sighs and eventually ever louder moans as Toru rocks his hips into the smaller man’s.

Toru’s brain is awash with pleasure. He is close to shorting out when the dots to a brilliant idea fortunately connect. He walks them backwards to his home studio where for the rest of night, the sounds of discovering one another’s bodies is cocooned from the rest of the world.

That night, Toru learns exactly how Taka’s fit muscles and smooth skin feels like underneath his fingertips, and how salty sweet they taste with his tongue. The dark litany of his name amidst profanities ripped from the vocalist's throat is a symphony unto itself. 

**IX.**

They move to the bedroom as the first of dawn’s rays lighten the room. In Toru’s bed, they tangle their limbs. Taka’s head is nestled into the taller man’s shoulder. Toru is the brink of sleep when he hears his now lover mumble something about notes and words. Toru opens an eye and realises the other is dreaming. 

It’s this image that springs to mind when Milet sputters a sudden invitation to dinner after they wrap up their collaboration. _No thank you_ , he gently refuses, _I’ve got someone waiting for me at home._

**X.**

Toru pushes open the door to his home studio with the spare hand that isn’t holding a warmed bottle of tea. He pauses at he sight that greets him. Taka looks up from where he’s fiddling with his _keitai_. His eyes shine as he offers Toru a shy _okaeri_ and asks if he’s ready to start the Instagram live. 

Yes, Toru inherits the Yamashita slowness and his father’s intensity of gaze. But it could be worse he thinks. As the world falls apart around them, the answering tenderness in his lover’s eyes and the sweetness of his voice is all Toru can hold on to. 

**Owari.**

**Author's Note:**

> (# - according to Taka's IG live on 5 Apr 2020, he and Toru live in the same 'mansion'. This term is different to the Western usage, which is usually a very large and luxurious house. In Japanese, the term refers to an above-average sized and more luxurious apartment than the typical 'apaato'). 
> 
> Thank you for reading! Hope you enjoyed me packing the fic with all the references that only an obsessed OOR fan can pick out! Did you catch all of them? Please leave a note - constructive criticism welcomed :) Take care out there.


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